Not a Grave Situation: Fun Stuff!

This page is for those of you who have your own strange facts and interesting stories to tell about Green Hill Cemetery.

Such tales and tidbits as are sent to the e-mail address for this site shall be included on this page at my discretion and with your permission (provide me the "yea" or "nay" when you submit the tale). Perhaps I'll include my own interesting discoveries as well.

  • When I saw this, I thought about putting it into the epitaphs, but I felt more strongly that it belongs with the fun stuff. Draw your own conclusions....
  • From the stone of Augustus L. Cunningham (1881-1904)

    "Killed by electricity in the
    faithful discharge of his duty."

    I like to call this stone "Headless Horseman"(and horse)

  • Okay! Remember Edna from "Anyone Home?"

    Here's what happened to me...

    The first time I stumbled across Edna Mae Smith's grave in Green Hill, I was fascinated by the design. However, I was also young and stupid. And a bit inebriated. I decided to dance on top of her grave and pick onions from the same ground. I was being quite foolish. During that same night, at about 2:30 a.m., I awoke to a terrible fluttering sound. It was loud. I have quite a psychological discomfort with creatures boasting more than four legs, so I sat up to find and kill it. I didn't realize where it was until it fluttered again and I felt the pain. The horrible prickly sensation from within. It was so loud because it had a front row seat to my ear drum. The beast was inside my head. I ran through the house, clutching my ear, went to my parents' bedroom and cried "there's something in my head!" After several applications of hot water, peroxide, alcohol, and red oil to drown what I thought was an infection of shifting ear wax, the pain persisted. At the emergency room, a fat, foul-breathed man stood over me saying, "we need the alligator forceps." Oh, rippie. After flushing, poking, and digging, the ER crew extracted what I had feared all of my childhood, but had never experienced until that night. A bug. A waterbug. The kind that hang around your water-heater. Never happened before, never happened again.- - - I apologized to a dead woman. . .

    I received an e-mail on Friday, 8/15/97. It appears that Green Hill has at least one friend in the Greensboro Police Dept. who enjoys the cemetery as a regular "jogging path"....

    Oh, is anyone keeping an eye out for these "Guardians of Green Hill?"

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